I Pomodori e il Crisi
by Pomodoro Crisi
Summary: The Tomatoes and the Crisis. Ah, the joys of a tomato. Especially when you get to watch Antonio picking them all morning. But why, why do Gilbert and Francis have to come and ruin the fantasy? Or was that ruined when Antonio opened his mouth? Spramano


**Finally I have time to type this. I've had this written down for two weeks already and couldn't get time to sit and type it with vacation plans and watching my 12 year old cousin (who ticks me off to no end because he touches _everything_ and can't wait for people in crowded amusement parks so he almost got lost at least 4 times and then he made fun of one of my best friends cause they love the play Wicked a bit too much - though it's really fun to watch him dance to it). So yeah, I has me a busy 2 weeks. And another busy week starting Friday. I get to see the new Harry Potter park! And see if they sell anything Hetalia in Epcot since I know they have other anime stuff there. **

**Anyway~ Hope this isn't as suckish as it was when I started. I really should learn not to just start writing when I have nothing in mind...**

**Warning: Possibly too close to a lemon for T rating...but if someone says it's too close I'll change it.**

**Also, I used to be XlookingXforXaXwayXoutX but it was really old and brought up bad memories...so yeah, I hope it doesn't confuse anyone too much.  
**

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I Pomodori e le Crisi

Again. Again. Again. He needed more. He'd spent all day thinking about this and now… He just couldn't get enough!

The way the cool skin felt in his hands. The beautiful colour that rose in his cheeks. The taste, the aroma! He was positive he was going to die from sheer ecstasy.

Dio, how he loved tomatoes.

Lovino sat on the counter in Antonio's kitchen, sneakily taking tomato after fresh picked tomato from the basket he had waited painstakingly to be filled and brought in the house. He had cleaned he had waited so long! Not, that the view was not enjoyable. He had always enjoyed watching Antonio in the garden after all. How, if it was hot enough, nearly every day in the summer, he would watch as Antonio slid his shirt off, exposing sun-kissed skin that made the air-conditioned house feel as if he were standing next to the Spaniard. Again, not that that wouldn't be enjoyable.

He could imagine it now. Himself, walking out to the garden, barefoot and carefree. Antonio, smiling and concentrating on bringing the very best of the ripened fruit inside. He would sneak up on him, surprising him the last second by placing a small kiss on his neck, something light, just enough to grab his attention. And Antonio would turn around and smile warmly at him, maybe even pull him closer to him, and kiss him gently as if terrified that he would break him. And when he pulled back, he'd smile again, eyes bright with a pure happiness only he knew how to attain and then he'd say -

"I hope you didn't eat all the tomatoes, Lovi! We have company tonight!"

Lovino snapped his eyes open, his fantasy slipping away just as it always did. He glared at the doorway Antonio's voice had come from, if only looks really could kill. Or maybe injure, injure would mean he could nurse him back to health. Hadn't Japan shown Feli a manga about what happens between the injured patient and their nurse? Yes, he was sure he had seen it in Feli's room one day.

"Who the hell is coming over, bastard?" he didn't care if he sounded mean or if it hurt the Spaniard's feelings - if the common insult even registered through that thick skull of his - he didn't want anyone else over, this was his day with Antonio dammit. The first day, he might add, that he hadn't been chewing the Netherlands in half over the World Cup. Honestly he couldn't be more thrilled the damn thing was over. He loved football, but the stress and anger and fights it caused was way too much for him. Even after the stupid potato bastard's octopus had said Spain would win, Antonio hadn't calmed down once. The moron nearly bit his lip in half as he watched the match go into over-time - though the victory kiss had been payment enough for his suffering, even though it was awkward afterward and he'd had to resort to storming from the room to keep from doing something he knew he would regret later.

"Just Francis and Gilbert. Oh! And Feli too!" Antonio stepped into the kitchen, frowned slightly at the disappearence of a considerable amount of the tomatoes he had just brought in, and continued over to pull Lovino off the counter by the waist. He tried to ignore the flush climbing in his cheeks but he couldn't hide the rather rough tone of his voice. It wasn't his fault his throat had suddenly gone dry. I-It was the tomatoes, really.

"W-What the fuck, moron. I don't want to spend the night watching my stupid brother hang himself over the potato bastard!" he looked down to where Antonio was still holding his waist. "A-And let go of me, pervert…"

"Eh? But you should be happy Feli is in lover, Lovi! It's a wonderful, fantastice feeling!" He smiled _stupidly_. Yes, definitely _not_ adorable or sexy in any way.

"I still don't need to see it…" he grumbled. His throat decided it wanted to be even more dry as Antonio's hands tightened their grip on, well, now they had found their way to his hips. "L-Let go of me already, dammit."

"Aw, but Lovi! You're so cute when you blush! I just want to hug you and sit you on the counter and eat you up!"

Blunt, this bastard was too blunt.

_Pomodori_

Lovino slapped his hands away, grabbed another tomato and stomped his way to his room.

Fucking blunt bastard, saying shit like that when he knows perfectly well how he felt about him. He had to, it was clear as fucking day to every other nation in existence, so obviously Antonio knew by now…

Che, who the fuck was he kidding? Antonio was as thick as a fucking mountain. He wouldn't be able to function if he hadn't been around so long. And England actually thought he was a threat in his pirrate days? He wouldn't have been able to fight his way out of a garbage bag, let alone lead a group of drunk men in to battle.

He sighed loudly in frustration, his tomato long gone and the bed in the guest room - which was technically his since so much of his stuff was in it - hard against his back. Dammit, he wanted to be in Antonio's bed. It was warm and soft and smelled like ripe citrus and the sun and warm afternoons outside and fucking heaven as far as he was concerned. There was a reason he kept sneaking into bed with the bastard other than the crappy quality of the quest bed - which he refused to mention just in case Antonio sought to replace it. It was annoying, lying in this piece of crap bed when Antonio's was just down the hall.

He was going to leave for the other room too, until the door downstairs opened with a slam and Gilbert's loud voice carried the stairs to pierce his eardrums.

Lovino groaned and wrapped a pillow around his head to block the noise he knew was coming soon.

_Pomodori_

Antonio smiled wistfully as he carefully diced tomatoes for his paella. He felt bad about not telling Lovi about having his friends over earlier, but if he had, Lovi would have stayed home and he couldn't celebrate his first World Cup victory without his darling tomate.

Even if he locked himself in his room, Feli would go up and talk to him later, just like every other time, and Lovi would come down with his cheeks puffed out and cling to Antonio in his own way until everyone left. Besides, he couldn't stay mad at him for too long. Even when they fought - or rather Lovi fought and Antonio let him wear himself out - he would always wake up to find the Italian in bed with him, curled against his side and sleeping just as he did when he was younger. Antonio sighed, remembering the way Lovi would sigh and curl closer whenever he snuck a quick kiss from the sleeping Italian. If only he could do something like that when Lovi was awake and could actually respond. But then he'd just end up with a pain in his vital regions and maybe some tomatoes staining his walls, and he didn't have the patience to clean all that.

Still…maybe he could go up and steal a kiss or two before everyone showed up. Ah, but Lovi wouldn't open the door. Not for him anyway. He'd have to wait for Feli to come to his rescue…again…

Antonio heaved a sigh as he dumped the tomatoes onto the simmering dish, nearly dropping it the cutting board as well when the front door slammed opened and Gilbert came running through the house. He went to greet his quest, and to tell him to please be quiet so Lovi could sleep a bit, but instead was greeted to the sight of Gilbert sprawled on the floor with a white bear gnawing at his collar.

"A-Ah, Antonio. S-Sorry about him…Kumakimchi just started freaking out for some reason…"

A blond boy - wasn't that America? - stepped through the door to remove the bear. It looked up at the boy - who was he again? - and actually spoke to him - what the hell world had he stepped into?

"Who?"

"Canada. Matthew, the guy that feeds you…"

Oh! Now he remembered him! He was the boy Gil always went to visit when Ludwig kicked him out of the house!

"Why did you attack Gil, Kumchacha? You could have hurt him…"

Not that he was in perfect condition at the moment anyway. Antonio watched as a small yellow bird pecked at his neck in agitation, Gilbert just mad and odd sound and twitched a bit.

Stupid albino tried to kiss you. Unacceptable."

Uhm…What?

"You spend too much time around Al…" Matthew sighed and dropped the bear, who kicked Gil one more time before trundling off to explore. Matthew poked Gil's cheek, smiling softly as he did so. "He's nice when he's quiet, eh?"

Antonio laughed lightly, not exactly sure what to say. Luckily he didn't have to say anything because Gilbert chose that moment to gurgle incoherently. Matthew leaned closer and was apparently trying to make out what Gil was saying. Slowly, Antonio was able to make it out too.

"Need…A…Kiss…"

Antonio laughed loudly, enjoying the flush on the Canadian's cheeks. He looked just like Lovi~!

Sighing - did everyone do that around Gil or was it just him? - Matthew straightened up and cleared his throat quietly. Antonio tilted his head, watching curiously.

"Gil, pancakes are ready!"

Gil quickly ended his gurgling and stood up, red eyes wide and eager for his treat. They lost their shine when he saw Antonio laughing and Matthew rolling his eyes the way Arthur did to Alfred sometimes at meetings.

"Mattie," he sounded so cute Antonio had to laugh more, thinking of how Lovi would look if he teased him in the same way. "You promised you wouldn't do that anymore." Gil pouted and Antonio resisted the urge to coo at him, still chuckling behind his hand.

"And I told you not to let Kumachachi near Al but you didn't listen to me either.

Ah, that was a pleasant surprise. Gilbert being told off for not listening to someone. And not by Ludwig… Poor Lovi had missed possibly the best blackmail material ever to come into their house… Or maybe not.

A small clicking came from the stairs, Gil and Matthew too busy fighting - and Matthew was certainly winning - to notice, but Antonio saw Lovi, camera in hand, on the foot of the stairs, smiling like Francis and Ludwig had just killed each other.

When he saw Antonio however, his grin faded a bit and his cheeks turned pink, then red, and he ran back upstairs. Antonio sighed sadly, pulling the still half-arguing couple away from each other - Matthew could really pack a good punch for such a small guy - just as Francis walked in.

"Ah, mon cher Antonie! How are you this magnifique day?" He stopped and eyed the trio, from Gil and Matthew's pink cheeks to Antonio's hands separating them, and grinned wickedly. "I see mon Matthieu is keeping busy. Can Papa join in the fun? Gil knows all about the skills I possess in this…area."

Matthew's cheeks reddened then blanched at the suggestion. Gilbert simply turned red and began screaming about perverts and pedos. Antonio didn't think it would be smart to mention that Gilbert happened to be considerably older than Francis.

He heard Lovino's laugh from the stairs as the yelling turned to blows and Matthew had to try and break it I[ and keep being groped at the same time. Antonio smiled at him again, adding in a wink for the fun of watching his cheeks colour, before jumping in to help Matthew before his house got destroyed.

"Big Brother Antonio! We're here!"

And in came his saviour!

"Feli! I need your help!" He left Francis and Gil to the skilled - and significantly stronger - hands of Ludwig, who had managed to hold Gil back even as Matthew threatened him with a week of no pancakes - and several things that turned Ludwig a shade to match Lovino/

"Ve, is it Lovi again?" He sounded excited, as if he'd been anticipating this all day. Antonio nodded sadly and Feli smiled happily as he disappeared up the stairs.

_Pomodori_

"Ve, Lovi, you need to open the door now!" Feliciano knocked daintily on the door, simply bidding his time until his brother opened up. Any minute now there would be something smashing against the door, a few choice curse words, and Lovino would peak his head out the door -

"Go the fuck away! I'm not talking to that bastard ever again!" Something, Feliciano was guessing one of the lamps this time, connected with the door and shattered. Feli waited a few seconds, standing silently outside the door - though still bouncing on the heels of his feet - and surged forward the second he saw Lovino's curl poke out through the door.

"Dammit Feli, why cant you just go away when I ask?" Lovino sat on the bed, head in his hands and cheeks still flushed, though he couldn't tell if it was from anger at him or embarrassment _and_ anger at Antonio

"Why are you being so mean to Big Brother Antonio today? He's all excited about winning the World Cup and wanted to celebrate with you and his best friends. You're being selfish Lovi."

Feliciano stood, hands on his hips on a way that looked far too much like Elizaveta for Lovino's comfort, in front of Lovino.

"Because…he invited the bastards without asking my permission… "You don't live here though Lovi, it's not your business who Antonio invites over."

"I basically live here anyway! He should have the damn nerve to ask if I want to spend time with those morons!"

"It's still none of your business." Feliciano sang happily, oblivious to the darkening aura attempting to overwhelm him.

"Well maybe it should be." Lovino huffed, not really thinking over his words.

"Oh? And why is that?" Feli laughed triumphantly in his head. He was getting good at this espionage thing. Maybe he could use it with Ludwig later…

"Because I…B-Because…Well…" he mumbled something too low for Feliciano to hear.

"What was that brother? I couldn't hear you." He smirked childishly to the glare he received.

"Imluffwiftonio"

"Sorry, still couldn't catch it, _Fratello_."

"I'm fucking in love with Antonio! Dammit!"

Lovino paled to match Gilbert's hair. "Was that…Did…" Feliciano nodded happily, skipping out the door to leave his brother to his moping. And to plan his escape route for later since there was no way Lovi wouldn't punish him for making him yell that, especially with all the quests downstairs.

"I'll bring you up some food later, Lovi!" he called over his shoulder as the bedroom door slammed shut.

_Pomodori_

Antonio grinned like a clueless moron, sending his high-fiveing friends out the door, thanking them all, especially Feli, for helping him. Really, it had been easy - or easier than he had thought - to get Lovi to confess without confessing. Of course the Italian was probably curled on the hard quest bed feeling miserable and depressed thinking that Antonio would ignore his not-so-confession and spend the rest of the night with his friends.

Ah, he couldn't wait to see his face when he brought up dinner.

_Pomodori_

Lovino sat hunched on the floor, the bed not having survived his angry tirade at himself, with Antonio's stolen pillow pressed into his face. He may as well enjoy while he could, since Antonio would likely kick him out now.

What the fuck had he done? He'd let Feliciano goad him into saying that he…love the bastard. And he had to fucking yell it too, didn't he? Why the hell had he never learnt to control his temper? At least for important shit like this.

Everyone downstairs had probably heard as well, meaning the entire world would know that he loved that moronic Spaniard who would never feel the same because who would want _Lovino_ over _Feliciano_? His own Nonno hadn't wanted him around, so why would Antonio?

Lovino sighed at the sound of footsteps on the stairs, most likely Feli with his dinner. Great, so he could sit all alone in a destroyed bedroom and think about the way Antonio had lovingly and painstakingly prepared the food with his tanned, calloused hands. And then, of course, he would be obligated to think of all the other things those hands did and what he wanted them to do. And he would feel the shameful need to relieve himself until the rabble downstairs left and he could sneak into Antonio's room to say goodbye - secretly, because he didn't want him to know he had actually cared - and go home. Where Feli could yammer about the potato bastard all he wanted while _he_ drowned himself in the best alcohol he could find and prayed some disaster would destroy Southern Italy and he would be free of his stupid emotions.

The footsteps stopped outside his door.

"Lovi! I brought you dinner, quierdo!"

Oh just fucking perfect. The bastard was there to kick him out now. The hell if he would go easily.

"Go the fuck away, asshat!"

Oh, nicely done, ten year old.

"Lovi! Please open up! I brought you delicious paella! I even put something special in it! Well…Francis did, but it's nothing bad, I swear!"

Lovino stayed silent this time, not caring about anything but keeping his breathing even and eyes closed. He felt the sting of tears, breaking his rule of not opening his eyes to blink them away angrily. The hell was wrong with him today? First screaming about Antonio, now crying over leaving him. Antonio had turned him into a fucking teenaged girl!

There was a deep sigh and Lovino listened as the footsteps faded into the distant reaches of the house.

Thinking he may as well get his things now, he crept over to the door and looked both ways down the hall for any sign of movement. Seeing nothing to lead him to believe that the Spaniard was still on the second floor, Lovino ran for that master bedroom, locking the door soundly behind him.

He leaned against the door, cheeks an angry red as he thought of what he should have done with the Spaniard every time he snuck in here. He had been too scared before and now… now he just couldn't.

"Stupid…" he muttered to himself as he collected little things of his that had found their way in the room throughout the years - books, pencils, and sketchbooks being the predominate items. He also had a few pairs of pants and a few shirts hanging up in the closet and he left those for last to put off seeing the mess behind the door that would surely lead him to more tears. He always told Antonio he had to clean his closet more often. The only things hung up properly were a couple of suits and Lovino's clothes.

Something rattled and fell in the closet, followed by a few whispered swear words and the rustling of clothes. Lovino blanched. Great, he had to pick the day someone creepy was hiding in the room to sneak in.

Lovino walked warily to the doors, hoping Antonio kept his axe in there and whoever it was didn't know it existed. He gripped the knob, hands shaking and all his Italian instincts telling him to run out the door and not look back. But then the psycho might go after Antonio…

Unless of course the psycho was Antonio and he happened to jump partially from the closet, grin plastered into place and eyes sparkling even though he was tangled in Armani and various other expensive suits.

`"Lovi, darling! I've been waiting for you!" He laughed as if it was normal for someone to hide and wait for someone in a closet. Now that he thought about it though, Antonio probably thought it was.

"Ba-Bastard! Why the fuck would you hide in the damn closet when you could just wait on the bed like a normal person?"

Shit, he hadn't meant for that to sound so perverted.

"Because this is more fun!" Lovino ignored the continually rising heat in his cheeks at the man's smile. "Now I get to see you blush, just like a tomato!"

Lovino huffed and turned his head away, crossing his arms and ignoring the way his body reacted to how close the bastard was getting. Didn't he understand the idea of personal space?

"Such a cute tomato." The Spaniard's voice had grown softer, but it was now right below Lovino's ear, so close he could feel both the warmth of Antonio's breath and the gentle brush of his lips. "I think I'll have a little taste…"

Lovino bit his lip, forcing himself into silence as perfect teeth bit into his throat followed shortly by a pink tongue to sooth the angry patch of skin. A tan arm snaked around his waist, the other lifting the white shirt Lovino wore up so it could explore his stomach and chest happily. Lovino bit until he tasted the iron of his own blood, refusing to make a noise. He nearly lost it, though, when Antonio removed his mouth from his throat and captured Lovino's lips in a bruising kiss that crushed Antonio's exploring hand between them. He licked teasingly at the Italian's bloodstained lips, asking permission he really didn't need.

And that was the end of Lovino's silence. The second his tongue met with Antonio's he was ruined for eternity. He moaned and gasped and cried out strings of Italian and Spanish, begging Antonio for more, faster, harder. He wanted everything the Spaniard had to offer. Every sigh and gasp and - Dio - sound he could coax from the now-abused red lips.

Hid release was quicker than he would have liked, but Antonio's was quick to follow and it make it well worth it. Even being crushed slightly as the Spaniard collapsed boneless on top of him couldn't bring him off his cloud as his name was screamed loud enough he was sure Francis would be over in the morning to say something perverted.

Still…the whispered "ti amo" as Antonio pulled him to his side and threw the familiar sheets over them made up for it enough that he may refrain from actually killing Francis when he came over.

Feli though…he would have to plan something special for Feli.

_Pomodori_

Feliciano shivered against Ludwig's side, poking the man into waking and fairly jumping into his arms for comfort as a thick sense of dread washed over him.

"Ve, Ludwig, can we go visit Kiku tomorrow…maybe for a month?"

"Why?" Ludwig mumbled, blowing a bit of the Italian's hair from his face.

"I just miss him is all ve…" Feliciano rested his head on Ludwig's chest and silently prayed that a month was enough time for Lovino to calm down enough not to kill him.

~End~

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**Whoo! I love writing sex without writing sex. It's so much fun! Also I love the tomato eating in the beginning. I have no idea why I wanted to do that, but it made me giggle...**

**Also, I have an odd obsession with the Hetalia plushies I bought 6 of them on ebay in the last week... so now I have 7! The Lovi one was glaring at me the entire time I was typing this...  
**


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